To the End of the World and Back, For You
by S and K Scrawlings
Summary: Gonna be doing a rewrite of this as I've been thinking about where to go with it... Gonna be a while as I'm updating everything but this IS going to be my main project now and I've got an idea where I want it to go.
1. Chapter 1

**All rights to their respective owners.**

 **Hey this is my second story and my first self edited one. This isn't my main project but i will still try to churn out chapters of this where i can. i really enjoyed writing this and will continue to do so with your support :D All characters besides my own go to their respectful owners. Hope you enjoy this and if you spot any mistakes please do point them out. All constructive criticism is appreciated and if you want to get in touch my KIK is in my profile. Please follow and favourite for more, once more enjoy the read and i hope to hear from you with feedback. - S &K Scrawlings (KTillBillie)**

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 **Chapter 1 – Rising at Dawn**

A golden sun rose from its horizon-laid mattress over a new world. The fissures that severed the earth had receded into themselves, leaving only sparse surface cracks in the wake of the destruction of the dark lord Malefor. The morning glaze of sunshine honeyed the new land, blessed with a second chance by the very same dragon that lay: eyes close and bleeding, beside a perfectly mirroring lake, only being disturbed by the ripples created by a frantic black dragoness who buzzed back and forth, wetting the wounds of the purple dragon: not only in the lakes water but her own tears as well.

"Spyro!" a quavering voice once more echoed through his thoughts, confusing the purple one who meandered along the void of his mind. "I'm not ready yet, don't go!" the voice wailed, begging the blissfully naïve dragon to break from his adventures of nothingness. _"I've not a clue what it's talking about, I don't plan on going anywhere. It's nice here: no war, no fire, no draining feeling, I don't need to worry here."_ Thought the semi-conscious tendril of thought, as it continued to list across the planes of Limbo residing in his own head, _"Here I don't need to take care of myself, or the realm or Sparx, or…"_ it rambled to itself, beginning to regain the ability to rationalise with itself " _I don't have to take care of… I don't_ _have_ _…_ CYNDER!" yelled Spyro, breaking from his tightrope walk across death itself by waking from his precarious slumber. "SPYRO!" was his reply, being grappled and grasped with, being checked of all signs of life before she could truly believe it was him. "I thought you were… I thought I'd have to… WE DID IT!" breaking herself from a self-loathing drone, usually a feet beyond her own, in favour of latching onto Spyro in a short lived hug, until he spewed a thin but steady stream of blood onto her back.

"We need to get you somewhere to get you patched up now." Said Cynder in a commanding voice, she waited only for a half nod from Spyro before taking him on her already bloody back and rising above the canopy, using her wind element more than her wings, to scout for what could be a form of shelter. Her emerald eyes spotted a small alcove within a hillside, where they would be relatively undisturbed; taking off towards the cave she was able to take in the brief sights of what looked like Avalar around her. The trees blushed a lush green and the river that flowed through them reflected this, giving the forest a green, emanating glow from within, granting an air of life and prosperity to the overall land. Beyond that however, lay a scorched and desolate plain, touched by the belt of fire once, but no more. There Cynder could see Malefor's ex-minions, lurking and scrambling across the charred black soil. There they fought for but scraps to feed off, making Cynder wander when they would come for what Avalar could gift them, should they take it.

Touching down within the cave Cynder quickly set about work, using her poison breath to dress and treat Spyro's wounds, preventing infection in a specialised and talented manor. "These will hold you together for now." She declared, lathering the purple lizard with her gaze. She at first admired her handy-work, leaf formed bandages gave a green accent to his purple scales: purple scales that she couldn't help but glance over once or twice, taking in their royal gleam and filling her with emotions best described as self-value. His tint gave her rest from her constant worries of inadequacy and failure to those she held dear: Spyro here being the one she held closer than any and all others. These lapses in action gave her time to ponder, had he heard what she said? Would he return her gesture? _"Cliché beyond the point of reason."_ She scolded herself for having such simple emotions, ones she denied not but still resented for their utter predictability. Giving in to her insatiable longing she did something she knew she may later regret and crawled in between the limbs of the snoozing drake, to feel his heart beat against hers and let the rise and fall of his chest caress her into an early morning repose.

 _A white light emanated in his chest, filling his being with confidence and gusto. The light within began to grow and spread, making him feel proud and contented with himself, but as it grew he began to hear whispers and disdainful presences judge and attempt to put out the glowing orb. He pushed them far from him and lost his feeling of fullness, they were far away and he was isolated. The orb was all he had so he treasured it, nurturing it within him against all the words that the judgemental presence besieged him with. The orb grew until he himself was a shining ball of light: he lost his feeling of confidence and plummeted into worry and fear, "They should have helped me. Where are they now?" the voices didn't come, instead they became scared and resentful:_

 _"Be gone fool!" they bellowed. Then he was alone, completely alone this time. Nothing but the light that he feared was with him, even that began to consume him. As he lamented his existence a figure could be seen walking towards him. Once it reached his sight he saw himself, dark and corrupted by convexity. "Remember me?"_

Spyro awoke with a start, feeling attentive towards the mass of scales nestled in his arms, cosy and warm it nuzzled into him, contented with the world, and all it was, in the mind of the innocent little bundle that he protected with his muscular hold. "Cynder…" he said aloud before nestling his head into her shoulder and loosing himself in her scent and his thoughts. _"Maybe I wasn't hearing things after all…"_ Spyro mused to himself, perhaps only looking for a cheery thought to ease the aches of his wounds. However this was a thought that he knew would push him further than he could ever have gone before. "To the end of the world and back, for you…"

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 **Hi again! Hope you had fun with that, more on the way as i don't need to rely on my editor for this one (also means i have to take blame for being late D: ). Follow and favourite, review and message me if your interested in doing art or if you're just curious. For all of you who're in this with me I'll do all i can to get back to you and help** ** _you_** **out as well should you need it. Much love SEE-YA! - S &K Scrawlings (KTillBillie) **


	2. Chapter 2

**All rights go to their respective owners.**

 **Alright then, I'm going for longer chapters with longer times in between them as i think it feels a lot better for me as a writer. Hope you all enjoy the chapter as always please follow, favourite and review what you think so far. Including a lot of different themes in what was going to be a short little fluff story... But now, I've got plans for this one. Message me with any grievances should you have them or hit me up on kik. As before, follow, fav and review. Have a good one :)**

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 **Chapter 2: The Cycle is Complete** ** _–_** **Return to the start**

A light westward breeze tickled her muzzle upon her rousing: letting a cool breeze mix in between her and the radiant heat source that was draped across her body, warming her and protecting her. It let her lament herself into a steady bli… SPYRO HAD HER PINNED! Instantly whipping back to reality she began to panic at her current state of affairs: a dragon, that she ogled over, was laying half on top of her, pinning her where she **wasn't supposed to be**. _"why, why, why, why…"_ Cynder berated herself for her idiocy derived of lust and began to search for an escape route. Her mind pulsated as she raked through all her options and arrived at the conclusion she would have to risk using her shadow element. It was early in the morning and she was groggy. To a dragon this is an intoxicating sensation of inability to preform magical actions, before allowing the air of the magic world around them to bring them back to their instincts. So she was reduced to having to focus her little elemental power onto that element: this caused a static field to build between her and Spyro, tickling him. Her concentration fizzled into the abyss when Spyro bared his teeth twitchingly, letting his fangs rest on Cynder's collar, a sensation not entirely unpleasant to her but non-the-less frustrating as she was now subdued indefinitely.

Cynder chose to instead enjoy the feeling of Spyro wrapped so close to her. His muzzle: deep in her collar, fangs on the defined lump where the bone of said collar resided; the bearing of his fangs allowed a thin and chilling breath to trickle down Cynder's chest, adding to the early morning breeze. His chest was half covering her back and the other half to her left - giving her a feeling of what his scales feebly hid - he was well built after all their restless fighting and held a well maintained and controlled mind, even in sleep. He was loose on his inhale and taught through his exhale, a perfect way to control breathing (also explaining his lack of snoring). His scales were rough and some jagged: torn and chipped away by fighting – Cynder worried if the damage was permanent, or if it would heal over time, or even could _be_ healed. Along her ran his limbs: front legs rested over the nape of her neck, currently slightly damp from a cold sweat. Dangling his paws over to her right side and adding to her lack of an ability to move. His hind legs however had gripped the middle of her tail in her sleep: a dangerous action if he wasn't welcome – her scythe blade was perfectly capable of severing toes. _His tail_ on the other hand, was free to flick aimlessly in his sleep and making him seem like a timid, innocent hatchling, Cynder thought. _"What am I going to say to him?"_ she thought, hoping to make a script for herself before hand - no such luck – his muscles tensed and his body stirred; his amethyst eyes slid open gracefully and fixed directly onto Cynder's… in both their minds, after a series of laboured thought that drifted momentarily for the both of them, they knew: this was going to be awkward.

The iris of an eye is a truly spectacular sight to behold. So many infinite complexities to its seemingly crystalline structure, refractions of light and even reflections of the soul within - if you can see deep enough. In a jagged and sharp enchantment of dustings: ranging from the sprinkling of dew resting upon the shivering grass outside to the deep and priceless glow of an emerald, cut to perfection. Within it is a window to the soul, black and flawless, designed for the onlooker to be able to see infinitely into the owner's deepest thoughts and most concealed identities. Spyro looked and he saw a woven, abstract being that had come to a contented peace behind her sharp pupil, that grew ten-fold as he stared deeper into it. He fell deeper and deeper into the whirling puzzle that he had before him, untangling all the fear of rejection (he presumed upon their return), all the anticipation at the future and… **the glare she harboured for his body pinning hers to the ground.**

The body can give away so much about someone. Within it there can be scars worn in many different ways, all suggesting something about the owner. Hiding scars shows embarrassment at previous misadventures, gloating them can suggest the owner is a warrior, taking honour from his victories… but Spyro, he neither hid nor gloated them. Feeling the heart that beat on her flank she could consider the dead skin surrounding his small nicks and deep lacerations… She saw a solemn acceptance of the past torn from his clutches. She saw a black dragoness that attempted to rend him with a scythe blade. She saw a singular ray of hope that betrayed him by telling him to abandon all he held dear. She saw a destructive, delusional madman that he couldn't help see his own reflection in and when she looked deeper she did indeed see a love for his scars, a love that came with understanding that without them he would not be where he was now. Upon realising _'where he was now'_ , she turned a glare to him: since _where he was_ just so happened to be **on top of her** (despite her thorough knowledge that it was her fault.).

For a brief moment Spyro remained lost in the gaze of an enchanting, crystalline iris that he could chase her ghost of an identity in for years upon years… But was retched from it by a sudden fear that shot up his spine: in a flurry of limbs and hurried apologies he whizzed off her to land upside-down beside a rock on the other side of the cave. Once he had calmed and his eyes returned from their fuzzy red haze back to their glazed amethyst he could observe the sniggering source of his dramatic outburst. "Sleep well?" it questioned, mirth laced in its tone and a red flicker receding from her maw.

"Not as good as you seemed to…" retorted Spyro, a mistake he immediately realised and soon came to regret wholeheartedly.

Once Cynder was ready she joined Spyro outside, shooting her most warning glare she could as he licked his bruises he obtained when being so unceremoniously thrust from their cavernous hide, just to land doubled over on his chest. "So where to?" inquired Cynder ignoring the males clear distress,

"Where do you think…" Spyro responded in-between licks "Warfang."

"I was thinking… We deserve a break from all that." Cynder more stated than proposed and went on to explain her plans for the coming week.

"You want to do what now?" Spyro requested blankly, finishing his pitiful self-medication, his bandages having been torn and thrown off, revealing fresh and well healed scales, now already swelling to a bruise thanks to his 'medic'.

"I want to take a week to recuperate, one with you, if you'd like it." Cynder began once more with an over-exaggerated eye roll. "I want to spend some time with you out of the war, out of the fear for our lives, out of the responsibilities and cares for being roped into this whole 'saviour of the world' thing. I want to get to know the dead-weight I was chained too." She winked, having just poo-pooed their escapade through Avalar to claw a victory from the iron grip of an insane, god-like purple dragon as old as time, when compared to their brief existence in the world. Lazing onto her belly to bask in the new-morning sun she awaited a response from the clearly befuzzled drake.

"First of all: _saviourS…_ You can try Cyn, but we did this together and I'll be damned if I walk away with all the glory just because I happen to look like I was dipped in Bulb Spider goo." Spyro began, clearly more upset by her exclusion of herself than her blatant disregard of it 'not being a big deal'. He continued by choosing to poke fun at her choice of words at the end: "Second off: I was under the impression you knew me pretty well. It's not like we were mutes the whole time…" Spyro countered snidely, cluing onto her feelings and keeping her non-the wiser, but still bitter about his treatment earlier: at such an early hour too.

"Yeah but that was when we were fighting for our lives. C'mon purple boy: take some time to be Spyro rather than the neon-hero-of-the-world." Cynder egged him on, deciding to completely ignore their not-so-good-morning.

"Fine but just a week. I don't want anyone worrying about us."

"YES. I mean… uh, cool. It'll be fun, promise." Cynder awkwardly celebrated, letting loose the self-righteous child she had within.

"Now you've got your way… I want mine." Spyro declared, abusing the power he began to realise he had. Earning Cynder's interest only to quench it when he clapped his paws and lay down, "Breakfast please, I'm in the mood for deer… and I think I deserve it after this morning.".

"Why you self-obsessed little…" Cynder began, getting up to give chase to the already glee-filled, fleeing drake.

"Catch me if you can then Cyn!" Spyro hollered back to entice the perusing female.

Though the path they took was winding and mostly a blur, moving at the speeds they were, he still saw their past selves as he whirled side to side through the trees. A much less tormented dragon that carried weights through the forest to release a boat for he and Cynder to save the cheetah in distress: at least he knew where he was going. At least he had a goal to achieve, regardless of just how impossible it was. He danced and dove through leaves and the low hanging branches, a mockingly angry pursuer hot on his haunches, no, he knew exactly where he was going. After some time he broke through the trees and shot up, just to use his weight to gain more speed in a dive: a manoeuvre designed only to widen the gap between he and Cynder. In the dive he shot through a familiar rocky tunnel, in it was a maze of ledges, pathways and ancient artwork, but they paid little to no attention to it, flying at breakneck speed for around 45 minutes now. Not a second was between them as like a pair of deeply coloured comets they shot from the mouth of the cave into the clearing outside the forbidden passage and completely bypassing the city of Warfang by heading in the direction of the place where It all began for them both, the place where they were both wrenched from their families, albeit at different points. This was a place that they should scorn and loath, but instead it brought the memory of an old man, lost in the bouts of war. They set a baring instead, for the old Temple of the Guardians.

By the time the pair began to tire, Cynder had given up chase and Spyro had slowed to fly beside her, drawing strength from merely being close to her. Both were running on empty due to skipping breakfast, in favour of instead mocking and teasing one another, another thing to add to the, now, very long list of things they should regret that morning but somehow didn't. They touched down beside a beautifully clear lake, only rippled by the occasional surfacing of feeding fish… a sight Spyro grew excited by: he had many a fond memory of fishing with his brother… or rather fishing _for_ his brother. While Cynder landed gracefully along the bank of the lake, letting her claws feel the slightly massaging sensation of the sand, barely comparing to the coarse rub that she had felt earlier in the morning, the rub of tattered scales off a muscu… _"No, bad Cynder. Repress it."_ She scolded herself for such thoughts, clearly the work of something regrettable she had in the confides of her mind. In the meantime, Spyro dived skilfully into the lake causing a splash no bigger than a pebble being tossed aside to its watery grave. Upon resurfacing he had held a fish no longer than his snout but was grinning immensely at his successful catch, especially in front of Cynder, ample opportunity to show off… It was time to test his theory. His mind meandered about ways in which to engineer an altercation for Cynder which would prove or disprove the affection he hoped as he bobbed to the shore, and to the bemused dragoness in question. With a resounding squelch, he laid it at her feet and gestured for her to follow him into the air. _"Never mind that for now, more important things first, like breakfast… Aaaaaaand my payback."_ thought Spyro, awaiting the perfect moment to strike.

After around 15 minutes of the pair diving and hovering once more, split by explanation from Spyro and curses from Cynder, she gradually got the hang of it, bringing up fish more consistently. Upon her triumph of landing a fish larger than her own head Spyro chose to strike, latching onto her by wrapping his wings round hers, returning that feeling she had reminisced on all morning, and causing them to plummet into the deep water. Cynder flailed and floundered but Spyro held on, careful not to hurt her and keeping them close to the surface to be safe, once she had exhausted her panic he drew them both to the surface and smirked, enjoying her annoyance and embarrassment. He kept them both afloat with a series of powerful kicks with his hind legs. "I hope you choke on the fish bones." Cynder deadpanned, only causing Spyro's smirk to grow, relishing in his victory, not realising he still had the two entwined together. "You needed a bath." Spyro stated, "Last night you stank."

"Spyro," Cynder began with a sinisterly bland tone, "have you ever wished to lose that which makes you male…" with that he detached and scampered to shore to begin cooking their food, praying silently that it was hunger that caused her demonstrably ominous mood.

A column of smoke caught the attention of one particular glowing insect, looking out over the trees surrounding his home, this raised the lazy dragonfly and sent him into a frenzied panic, rushing home to fetch his parents before the 'forest fire' could spread. "Mum, Dad!" his frantic yells resembled that of an ape laboured beneath the fury of a dragon. "Got a problem: forest fire - off in distance – really bad – need help – send for keeper!" with that, even from the distance his parents were they heard their son's panicked tone and like the many times before they sent for those who could deal with it far quicker, before setting off themselves to contain it best they could. The small bell beside their house rang a total of 4 times, signalling the other stations of the emergency, eventually leading to the dragonfly village nearby: where a deep blue dragon was already donning her satchel to deal with the new threat to her new home. Following the column of smoke a threesome of dragonflies flitted through the trees, a whirling wisp was all that was seen as the pink, yellow and blue glows entered into the clearing beside a _beautifully clear lake._

Looking down the three could see one lazy looking black dragoness laying backwards and holding her mouth open, being fed a continuous stream of fish and assorted fruits by her trembling counterpart. Closer inspection revealed the female had a scythe like blade held to an exceedingly 'private area' of the trembling male, exchanging looks the three moved in closer to get a look at the details of the awkwardly placed duo, as the male continued this mindless activity to seemingly please the other: lest he loose his man-hood. Despite this the blithering fool still had a nervous grin plastered on his face and coupled with the occasional giggles all seemed well, besides the fact the male was held at random of himself. Purple… with lightening for horns and a golden underbelly. The female was quickly identified as "SHE BEAST!" by the squealing son, that ran for cover, of the blue and yellow dragonflies. "Spyro!?" came the flabbergasted call of the other two, recognising the male down to the last scale, which they had nurtured from his birth to add.

"Mom… Dad… Sparx?!" responded Spyro, flinging Cynder up and off him in the process - much to her discontent - but not enough to cause the protein coma'd body to do much to show her protest. "W-what're you doing here?" he stammered, realising the connotations of what he had just been observed doing. "No. Sorry wrong question. How have you been? I've missed you all so much!" he corrected himself before bringing them all close to him with his colossal wingspan, compared to their tiny bodies. From beneath he heard a nattering of questions but was unable to divulge the meaning; he simply let their glow warm him: the feeling of family, one that cannot be faked or replaced, something that he had not felt in quite some time. It caused his eyes to shimmer, the gateway to who he was inside opening, and began to let slip an occasional drip of a tear. Their aura warmed the blood as it swam through the pool of his body, creating a rippling effect sweeping over his whole being, from the senseless tips of his talons to the still growing mind, consumed by the ocean of emotion that now rushed on through. Despite all the warmth he felt: upon looking at the glow coming from his wings, through their thin and delicate membrane, all he saw was a pulsating light, a mix of the yellow, blue and pink of his surrogate family… A light that seemed to whisper _"Remember me."_.

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 **Things starting to kick off now, Spyro's caught onto her feelings but won't confess until he knows for sure. An inner conflict with a threat we have yet to find out and now, the parents are back in the picture SMALL WORLD HUH. Next chapter will be a lot of character building and introducing some new ones alongside that. Sorry for the cliff hanger but i gotta keep you coming back somehow ;) Next chapter is already being planned out... 'till next time -** ** _KTillBillie_**


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